Explore "Old Tom, the Cat" by Madeline Leslie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
MY aunt Deborah was the owner of old Tom, who was in my opinion, and especially in that of his mistress, a very respectable right-minded cat. But like some human beings who get characters which they do not deserve, Tom was accused of always being where he should not be.
It arose from a circumstance which I am about to describe. One cold evening in winter, Polly, one of the maid-servants, had gone up to a large garret in which the dirty linen bags were kept for the washing-day. She had to look into one of them for a garment which had been put there before being duly mended. Her candle was a dip; it burned dim. She did not much like going up there at all. She drew open the mouth of the bag, when she afterwards declared-that-out there jumped a monster as big as a bull, and rushed head long downstairs.